


Renaissance Renewal

by PyrrhusLebrun



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Drug Use, M/M, Overdosing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-03
Updated: 2015-08-03
Packaged: 2018-04-12 16:26:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4486626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PyrrhusLebrun/pseuds/PyrrhusLebrun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry is spiraling out of control. He got kicked out of college and is living with Louis, his best friend, who he's in love with. What will it take to get him clean again? Maybe a trip to Florence to see Michelangelo's David?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Renaissance Renewal

Harry stayed at the back of the group while the tour guide rambled on about the significance of another piece of Renaissance art. A year ago, it would have been his dream to be in Florence looking at Michelangelo’s work. He had been an Art History major in college and was going to spend a semester in Italy for a studio art program. Since being kicked out of school, however, he had given it up. It was hard to stop painting, but he found that it became a painful reminder of his failure. Harry had gotten into drugs at school and slowly addiction had taken over his life. He used them as a way to shut off his thoughts. He was never good enough. Everything was a failure and Louis was the ultimate symbol of his inadequacy. They were best friends, but nothing more. Harry just wasn’t enough and he didn’t know why.

As he thought about this, the statue he had come all this way to see emerged above the crowd of people. The tour guide led everyone around it and began his spiel. “There is a lot we know about The David, but it’s been disputed whether Michelangelo depicted David before or after he killed Goliath. He is holding his slingshot while looking at the distance, but it remains unclear if he is preparing to shoot or has already done it. Critics have speculated for centuries about this.”

Harry admired every contour and detail of The David. The thighs were thick and sturdy. The curve of the muscles were perfect. The pale marble looked so pure. He walked around to the back of the statue and looked up at the muscles in the back. They were like rolling waves frozen in stone. It gave the statue a sense of movement, a feeling it was alive. Harry heard the tour guide continue talking.

“Michelangelo was given a piece of marble that everyone had refused to use because it was riddled with veins. If he pierced only one of them, the whole block would crumble. It was a magnificent piece of stone, but almost impossible to actually use because many veins were hidden deep inside the stone.”

This detail gave the statue meaning for Harry. Suddenly David was an insecure teenager who everyone had given up on. He was struggling to prove himself, despite his faults. Harry saw in his eyes a desire to be accepted.

“So you can see the veins that run down The David now, but they would have been concealed from the artist while he was making it. Each hammer of his chisel would reveal a new layer stone to his eye. He had no way of knowing if a vein lurked were he was about to strike the stone. It is truly a miracle that Michelangelo was able to create such a masterpiece from the worst of materials, but he was determined. Artists like him believed that the sculpture was waiting inside the right block of marble. Michelangelo believed in this stone.”

Harry rubbed the crook of his elbow while looking closely at the veins in David’s chest and legs. Suddenly this trip felt like a bad idea. He felt like the insecure teenager he saw in David’s eyes, except Harry had a gnawing everywhere inside him. He was sweating and his fingers twitched slightly. He clutched harder at the inside of his elbow and tried to squeeze away the addiction, but he couldn’t. Harry didn’t believe he could fight the addiction any longer. For a moment he felt like David before he was liberated from his block of marble— trapped and powerless. Then he smirked to himself in a desperate attempt to feel in control. He wasn’t trapped. He had been chiseled into his position and his veins were visible to everyone. The drugs were his Goliath and his drug dealer, his Michelangelo, hadn’t let him escape. Without looking up at the statue again, Harry walked out of the museum and took off down the street. He lit a cigarette, but only took one drag before forgetting about it in his hand. It left a faint trail of smoke behind him as he walked.

* * *  
“Do you have your half of the rent?” 

Harry wondered why Louis even bothered to ask. He hadn’t left the flat for more than two hours at a time since getting fired the month before. He was starting to think that Louis asked just so he could feel like the responsible, put-together one. It drove Harry crazy how Louis had to be organized and ambitious and rational. He used to like it, found it refreshing. He thought it made them good roommates, balancing each other out, but since Harry had nothing to offer now except dirty laundry and empty bags of Doritos, Louis’ Type-A personality felt like a slap in the face. In addition, his helplessness and dependence on Louis was only another reason to feel worthless. 

“What do you think?” asked Harry.

Louis raised an eyebrow. 

“No. I don’t. I don’t have a job so I don’t have any money.” 

Louis pursed his lips and pushed his brows together. 

“I don’t have the rent! What do you want me to say?”

“Harry, you have to get a job.”

“Thanks for the advice. Never would have thought of that.”

“Fine. I’ll rephrase it. You have to get off your ass and look for a job. I didn’t agree to move off campus to live with you after you got kicked out of school if I had to pay all the rent.” 

“Sorry I’m such a burden.” Harry tried to sound like an angsty teenager talking to his cranky mother.

“God, you’re a prick. All I’ve done is try to help you.” Louis turned out of the room and left Harry alone. He heard the door slam behind Louis as he went to his afternoon class. He waited five minutes and then grabbed his phone and texted his dealer. 

Can you drop off before 5? 

While he waited for Mike to come, he pulled out the wad of cash in his pocket. He counted out thirty dollars in one and five bills. He left them on the coffee table and lay back on the couch and dozed off until a knock at the door woke him. He gave Mike most of his money and took a small bag of weed. He knew he would have to hide it from Louis so he put it in his pillow case. Louis wouldn’t be home for another two hours though, so he packed a bowl and sat out on the small balcony. When he was done, he went inside and found a pack of cigarettes and smoked one outside to make sure it didn’t smell of weed. 

He heard Louis come in eventually and went back inside. He was afraid of what Louis would say if he smelled any smoke, let alone weed. He sat on the couch and heard Louis shuffle around a bit. He could tell Louis was stalling before coming into the living room. Harry knew Louis that well. Three and a half years as best friends and all it meant was Harry knew when Louis was avoiding him or afraid to say something. Finally, Louis joined him in the room, but leaned against the opposite wall. 

“I’m sorry I was such a dick before. I know it’s been rough for you lately.” Louis trailed off. Harry had nothing to say. His mind was blank and his breath was slow. “Listen, I talked to my mom and she’s wants to give us a graduation gift. She’s gonna book us flights to Florence after the term ends so we can see all the art you’re so obsessed with. Maybe you can get me to see what’s so special about Bottle-Cello.”

“That’s Botticelli, idiot.” Harry laughed and felt some tension leave the room. He didn’t feel like a stranger or a failure, just someone taking a break from properly living. He still had a sinking feeling in his chest because he had no plans, but it felt good to be cared about. “Lou, that’s amazing. I’m guessing your mom still doesn’t know . . .everything?”

“No,” Louis said.

“I don’t know what to say.”

“Please just say tomorrow you’ll go look for a job.” Louis whined in his playful way that let Harry know everything was okay. Harry didn’t feel condescended to and he agreed. Louis came over to the couch and sat down next to him. Harry put his feet up on the coffee table and put his laptop on his lap. Louis laid his head against Harry’s shoulder. They watched Netflix together, but Harry was most attentive to Louis’ little movements beside him. Harry felt the pressure of Louis’ inhales against him. He heard the wetness of Louis’ mouth as he swallowed. The intimacy of sitting beside each other was enough to captivate all of Harry. In this silence, Harry didn’t have to think about the limits of their friendship. Their bodies touching was enough.

Harry was woken up by Louis in the middle of the night shuffling around the living room. He watched Louis close his laptop and turn off the lights in the apartment. Harry enjoyed watching Louis. It was a privilege to be granted access to his every gesture. Eventually, Louis came back to the couch and laid his hand on Harry’s shoulder.

“Go to bed, love,” Louis whispered. “It’s late.”

Harry feigned exhaustion and allowed Louis to lead him to his bed. He lay motionless on top of the covers while Louis tried to get him to take off his clothes, but Harry didn’t listen. Eventually, Louis moved his hand to Harry’s waste and undid the clasp of his jeans. Harry’s groin warmed beneath Louis’ touch and he craved more of it. Louis gently tugged them off Harry and folded them on the bed. By this time, Harry stopped pretending to be asleep and openly watched Louis while he lay with his bare legs exposed. Harry leaned forward as Louis pulled his shirt over his head and then let Louis tuck him beneath the covers. It seemed as though Louis was closer than he needed to be. Louis lingered above Harry as they nearly embraced. But the space between them grew again as Louis stood up. 

After Louis turned off the lights, he said, “Don’t forget to look for work tomorrow,” and left the room. 

Harry lay awake thinking about Louis and what they really meant to each other. Their friendship always seemed to be a little more than platonic. He decided he would look for a job tomorrow because he didn’t want to keep putting Louis in such a hard position. He didn’t want to be a problem. He resolved to take the initiative and start taking care of himself. Louis was all the motivation he needed.

* * *  
“You’re late. I can’t keep covering for you like this.” Nick would cover Harry’s tables whenever he was late. Harry was grateful, but not enough to return the favor or even get to the bar on time. 

“I’m sorry. I’ll take your shift tomorrow if you want,” Harry said.

“As nice an offer as that is, I need the money like everyone else here. That’s why we’re waiting tables, so please don’t make our jobs any harder.” Nick walked away and approached another table to ask for their drink order. Harry put on his apron and got to work. He could charm his customers into tipping really well, which made him feel better about working at a place like this. At least he was good at his job. Two hours into his shift, he got a text from Mike.

I got something new you’ll like. I’ll come by the bar. Meet me outside in ten.

Harry couldn’t refuse an offer like that. In the last few weeks, Harry had begun to feel very confident in all of his abilities. He had been smoking a lot of weed now that he could afford it and even tried acid for the first time when Mike gave him a tab to do with him. Drugs became harmless again as Harry convinced himself he was in control. Harry believed he could balance work and fun, despite the harm drugs had caused him thus far in his life. 

Harry ignored the memory of failing classes in college because he had chosen cocaine over studying. Even more so, he repressed the pain Louis went through trying to get him to kick the habit. Since living with Louis in the apartment, Harry felt more invincible than ever, so he decided to see what Mike had to offer. Before he got out the door, Louis came inside and surprised him. 

“What are you doing here?” Harry asked defensively, as if Louis knew where he was going.  
“Just popped in to see what’s up between classes. Something wrong?”

“No. Someone just left their wallet so I’m gonna try to catch up to them.”

Louis didn’t protest and Harry went around the corner to meet Mike. 

“What do you have?” Harry was eager to get back inside, but also wanted a treat from Mike.

“My friend just got back from Bolivia. This is some really good shit.” He took out a small bag and showed it to Harry.

“You know I’m not into blow anymore. That stuff really fucked me up, you know that. I thought you’d have something else.” Harry eyed the bag anyway and Mike put it in his hand.

“But this shit is good. Free of charge for my best customer.” The temptation was too strong and he remembered the euphoria of the drug. The way the drugs channeled through every crevice of him, the alacrity after a line, the invincibility were all rushing back to him. Harry stuffed the bag in his back pocket. It scared Harry how easily he could give in, but he pushed the thought out of his mind, thinking he could control himself. When he got back into the bar, Nick was in the back talking to their manager, Liam. Louis was standing with them and all were looking his way. Liam walked toward Harry and Nick and Louis stayed together and talked. Harry always thought Louis was attracted to Nick and their hiding in the corner exaggerated his jealousy. He felt betrayed. Harry knew they were talking about him, but he couldn’t do anything because he was sure they knew what he had just done. Harry was powerless. Louis would be upset and Nick would definitely be sympathizing with him, telling him how much of an asshole Harry was. He imagined Nick’s attempts to comfort Louis with more than just his words. 

Harry’s thoughts were cut short when Liam finally approached him.

“What were you doing out there?” asked Liam.

“Oh— someone left their wallet in the booth. I was just running out to give it to them.” Harry turned around to walk away, but Liam grabbed his elbow and pulled him closer.

“I saw you outside. We all did. I’ll do you a favor and not call the police because Louis told me that you’ve had trouble getting over this habit of yours. But I have to fire you.” Harry wanted to fight back, but knew that there was nothing he could do. He also wanted to confront Louis, but knew he had no right or reason to be jealous and upset. Harry removed his apron and walked toward the exit without another word. He thought Louis would run after him, but turning around he saw that Nick and Louis were still talking. Nick’s arm was on Louis’ shoulder. 

When he got home, Harry walked into his bedroom and locked the door. He took out the bag and cut a line on his desk. He knew he was screwing up by taking the coke, but he felt like all he could do was fail. Louis wouldn’t understand that he had made a mistake by taking the coke. Harry even believed his willingness to give in to temptation was reason enough to give in to his addiction because it was just another example of his faults. Louis’ relationship with Nick confused him and hurt him. Harry wanted an escape. This wasn’t his first slip up and he thought he could get everything together like he always did. Harry snorted his first line and then heard the front door open. Louis would want to talk, but Harry decided to stay locked away. Louis would have to go to class eventually.

* * *

Harry sat on the couch and stared into his lap. He wasn't really looking at anything. He wasn’t even thinking. He was numb. 

He heard Louis come into the flat and take off his shoes. Louis dropped his bag in the kitchen and opened the refrigerator, but closed it after a few seconds. Harry heard his footsteps approaching, but they continued past him and into Louis’ bedroom. He could smell cigarettes. Louis had started smoking again. Harry knew it was because of him. Harry had never gotten a job after Liam fired him a few weeks prior. Louis’ parents didn’t know about Harry’s “situation” and so Louis tried to keep it quiet by taking a job on top of being a full time student so he could pay Harry’s half of the rent. Harry heard Louis shuffle around in his bedroom, probably walking back and forth just for the sake of not having to pass Harry again. Louis came out of his room and went into the bathroom. He closed the door and Harry could hear the shower running. Then Louis opened the door and came up to the couch. He stood over Harry and breathed heavily. Harry looked up at the open bathroom door and listened to the sound of the empty shower echoing against the tiled walls. 

“What the fuck is this?” Louis held up a needle. Harry looked at it for a moment and then turned to face the window. “Answer me, asshole.” 

Harry stared at the branches outside and the bird feeder that attached to the window. He had built it and painted it before they moved in and gave it to Louis as a gift and a “thank you” for moving in with him after getting kicked off campus. 

“Get the fuck out.” 

Harry finally faced Louis. He could see Louis’ anger. His brows pointed down and his lips were pressed together so tightly they almost disappeared. His fist was white from his grip on the needle.

“Lou, where am I supposed to go?” 

“I don’t even care at this point. You can’t stay here.” Louis slammed the needle down on the coffee table next to Harry’s laptop and stormed away. 

Harry got up to go after him and said, “Louis, it was just this once. I promise!”

“You’re lying and I know it, Harry.”

“I’m not!”

“Fine, but I don’t trust you anymore. Even if you’re telling the truth, it doesn’t matter. You’ve fucked up too many times and I’ve given you too many chances.”

“Lou, I need you,” Harry pleaded.

“I know, Harry. You always need me. You needed me when someone had to cover for you because you stayed out all night doing coke instead of writing your term papers. You needed me when you spent everything on coke and couldn’t afford art supplies for class. You needed me when you had nowhere to live and I offered to rent an apartment so you wouldn’t be alone. Do you know why I did all this, Harry?”

Harry was silent.

“Because I loved you.” These words were a weight against Harry’s chest. Louis began to cry and continued, “I thought you loved me to. But if you did, you wouldn’t keep putting me through this shit.”

Louis stomped into his bedroom and Harry heard him click the lock. Harry got up from the couch, grabbed his backpack, and put a few pairs of pants and his laptop inside. Harry was near tears as he walked around the flat. He was the reason Louis couldn’t be with him. Harry had pushed him away. Harry’s actions were hurting Louis more than he ever knew. Seeing Louis’ pain was overwhelming. Harry stood outside Louis’ door contemplating what to do. He wanted to apologize, say anything to make Louis understand. Harry could hear Louis sobbing in his room and suddenly Harry crumbled inside. He did this to Louis. He was taking Louis down with him. He had to get out. The flat was stifling. He couldn’t breathe while he heard Louis cry. Before leaving, he went into the bathroom and turned off the shower Louis had left on. Once he got outside, he took out his phone and texted Mike. 

Dude, pick me up. 

* * *

Harry was only living with Mike for a week before he was told he had to leave. Mike had only offered him the couch temporarily and he knew there was nothing else he could do. Harry then began sleeping on park benches and under highway overpasses. He ran out of money quickly and didn’t know what to do. He would sit somewhere secluded and sob to himself over the state of his life. He missed Louis. Sometimes, a person would walk by and startle him and he’d start yelling at them, “Get the fuck away!” Other times, he would look up as he cried and someone would feel bad for him. When the came close to offer some help, he would pull a knife from his pocket and threaten to cut them if they didn’t give him money. He could only bring himself to do this twice before becoming overwhelmed by guilt that made him nauseous. Then he would spiral into desperation and find Mike to get more drugs. Other times, he would walk back to his old apartment and knock on the door. He tried this one Sunday afternoon when he was feeling lonely and especially hungry. Louis opened the door and froze.

“Harry, what are you doing here?” Was all Louis could manage. It was the first time he had seen Harry since he had kicked him out.

“I just wanted to see how you were doing, but I should go. Sorry to bother you.” Harry turned to leave but Louis reached for him.

“Come in. It’s good to see you.”

They sat in living room in awkward silence. Louis offered Harry food, which he accepted gratefully. Louis asked him what he had been doing, if he had been eating. Harry tried his best to appear okay.

“Can I do anything to help?” Louis asked.

“I hate to ask, but I could really use some money to help get by. I’m not really living anywhere right now so it’s hard to find a job.”

Louis got up without a word and went into the kitchen. When he came back, he handed Harry an envelope with money in it. Harry didn’t count it and thanked Louis repeatedly. Ten minutes later, Harry was outside again. An hour after that, he was joined by Mike on a street corner. The next day he had no money and ached for more.

* * *

“Do you have my money? No more favors.” Mike found Harry sitting on a park bench near his old apartment. 

“Yeah, I got it.” Harry reached into his sweater and pulled out a wad of cash. “Here.” Mike snatched it out of his hand and picked through it, counting. He looked up questioningly at Harry. 

“How’d you get this?”

“None of your fucking business. Just give me my stuff.”

“Relax, I’m gonna give it to you. I’m just curious. Fuck, man.”

“I sold my laptop, okay?” 

Mike handed Harry a bag and a few needles. 

“Try to keep these ones clean. Seriously, no more favors.” Mike walked away and left Harry on the bench. 

Harry stuffed the bag into his pocket and walked to the gas station down the block. He went into the single-stall bathroom and locked the door. He pulled out the chord of his hood and tied it around his bicep. He waited until he could find a vein and then took out a needle. He pricked himself and pushed down on the head of the syringe. 

Leaning against the wall, Harry stared blankly at the tiled floor. His eyelids sank and his vision became blurry. The spaces in between each tile became curved and started to vibrate. They looked like waves on the ocean. Harry wished he could go to the ocean. He wanted to go with Louis. 

* * *

Harry walked up to the apartment building. His heart began to race and he walked around the block one more time before gathering the strength to go inside. He climbed two flights of stairs and stood in front of his old door. He stared at it, but couldn’t knock. He was terrified of Louis turning him away. They hadn’t seen each other in weeks. It was almost graduation and Harry wanted to see him, congratulate him. Suddenly he heard voices and laughter from behind the door. It sounded like Nick from the bar. He shuffled downstairs and went across the street to wait for Nick to leave. He stood outside a deli and watched the front door of his old building for two hours. Eventually, he decided to just go up. He reached his door again, but this time it was silent. He listened closely and then heard heavy breathing. He thought he could make out lips smacking and Louis’ moaning. He sank down against the door frame and sifted through his pockets. He held a prescription bottle in his hand and popped pills without counting them. Harry leaned against the wall and stared at his watch. It was just after midnight. He wondered if Nick would stay the whole night. His breath began to slow down and he closed his eyes. His hands fell limp to the ground and his legs were numb. All of his senses were muted, except his hearing. He could still make out the faint sounds of panting and moaning. 

Harry didn’t know how much time passed. He could barely think at all. He was lost inside his head. He couldn’t form any thoughts. He could only experience whatever his subconscious thought for him. But he heard the door next to him open and then Louis’ voice. Another voice joined in and suddenly they were both shouting. He could hear his name. Harry thought he felt someone touch him, but he wasn’t sure. Suddenly his back wasn’t pressed against the wall anymore. He leaned forward into another body. He didn’t recognize the smell. Someone else grabbed him from behind. Two arms clutched around his stomach from behind and pulled his back up against their chest. He felt like he was caught in the waves of the sea, bobbing back and forth with the current. He could feel a cheek against his and suddenly he could smell Louis. Harry’s head fell limp, but Louis held tightly from behind as his head laid on Harry’s shoulder like David’s slingshot. The body in front of him disappeared and then it was just Harry and Louis. He could hear Louis saying his name over and over again. He wanted to respond, but he made no sound. His lips didn’t move at all. Louis held him tighter and then Harry couldn't feel anything at all.

* * *

Harry woke up in a hospital bed. His throat was dry and he was exhausted. He turned his head and saw an empty chair and then he fell back asleep. A nurse came in an hour later and woke him up to ask him questions. He could barely make sense of her words and just nodded whenever he thought it made sense to. After she left, Harry looked at the chair and saw that it was still empty, but he could smell the lingering scent of cigarettes. He fell asleep again and when he woke up, it was dark outside his window. He turned to his left and saw Louis asleep in the chair. He smiled and slept again. In the morning, Harry opened his eyes and saw Louis sitting up against his bed. He was holding Harry’s hand. 

“Good morning.” Harry’s voice was raspy. Louis looked up and let go of Harry’s hand.

“How are you feeling?” Louis shuffled his chair back an inch as he asked.

“Okay.” They sat in silence. Harry didn’t want to talk because he knew there was nothing good Louis could say about him or the situation.

After a few minutes of awkward silence, Louis asked, “Why were you outside the apartment?”

Harry thought a moment before answering. The right words were impossible to find.

“I wanted to congratulate you before graduation.” Louis nodded. He reached into his pocket and pulled out an envelope.

“Here. This is your ticket to Florence. Everything is paid for— hotel, plane, trains. I also put a few hundred dollars inside for food and stuff.” Louis looked away as he spoke to Harry.

“I don’t understand. Lou, I— I can’t take this.”

“I feel like an idiot for giving you any money. You’ve given me every reason not to trust you, but I can’t help how I feel. I still love you and I want you to have Florence.”

“You would go with me on this trip after everything I’ve done?” Harry asked, eyes wide and hopeful.

“I’m not going. I’ve tried to help you, Harry. I’ve done everything I can, but I can’t change you. This is all I have left for you. ” Louis paused. Harry looked away and bit his lip. 

“Lou, I can’t—”

“It will be good for you to see some art. Maybe you’ll get inspired or something. Please, don’t use the money for drugs.”

“Don’t let me go alone,” Harry pleaded.

Louis didn’t answer. He cleared his throat and spoke again. 

“There’s also a reservation for a tour guide to show you around the best museums. I think it’s the third day you’re there. The date is on the receipt.”

“I hope you change your mind.”

* * * 

Harry held the envelope in his hand. He finally opened it and read the ticket. His plane would leave in only two days. He reached into the envelope again and pulled out the cash. He counted eight hundred dollars. Harry suddenly felt hot. He could feel beads of sweat forming on his forehead and he became dizzy. He put the money back in the envelope along with the ticket and closed his eyes. He breathed slowly, contemplating what would happen between then and the day of his flight. 

Harry walked blocks without counting them and eventually ended up at the park he had slept in so many nights before. He found a familiar bench and sat down. He placed one hand over his pocket with the envelope and looked up around the park. People walked by, families played together, couples sat on blankets, all enjoying the warm sunny day. Harry turned to his left and saw Mike enter the park. He stopped by a tree and then another man walked up to him. They exchanged goods quietly and then Mike was alone again. Harry’s finger tapped on his pocket. He wiped sweat from his brow with the other hand and stood up. He looked around him one more time and then took off in the opposite direction as Mike. As long as he was out of Mike’s reach, he couldn’t give in.

* * *

Harry walked down the streets of Florence and sat along the river. He put out the cigarette that he hadn’t even smoked and looked at the sky. He tried to remember every moment of the last two years. He remembered starting the school year. He remembered getting the letter saying he was failing all of his classes and kicked out of school. He remembered moving in with Louis. He remembered the first time he found a vein and pierced it with his needle. He remembered the sensation of smoothly crumbling into numbness.

The streets grew steadily darker until the flicker of lamps nostalgic for a time before electricity awoke. Harry wandered past bars, cafes, and closing jewelry stores. He’d peek now and again through a shop window without stopping, just to remind himself of the innumerable possibilities— possibilities of lives, crisp mornings without the bleak overtones of loneliness, evenings with a glass of chianti and smooth jazz, nights of unfurled, infinite unconsciousness that gave him permission to undo himself in ways he couldn’t bear to yet for fear of revealing a nasty truth about himself. These hidden moments behind the glass of shop keepers closing the register and lunchtime bistro waiter’s stacking chairs atop tables were another world. Harry felt there was something romantic in existing solely as an image in black pants and a pristine ivory apron sweeping a seemingly clean floor in preparation for tomorrow’s trampling feet. Or perhaps it wasn’t existing in this way but merely witnessing, holding another’s image untouched by anything necessarily human— getting home exhausted and taking a shit you’ve been holding in— and imagining a life this simple, monotonous. Harry wanted to join the waiter stacking chairs he’d seen a block before. Silently weave between the stationary tables, dancing with a world within the restaurant to the beat of four steps and the thud-crack of another chair slamming a tabletop. Step-thud-crack— patterns becoming habits that end in nothing else but order; an ordering to return to stability. 

Before going back to the hotel room, Harry passed by an arts supply store. He went in and pulled out the envelope with money in it. He had spent two hundred dollars so far on food. He walked into the store and browsed the materials. Harry decided to buy a few small canvases and some paint. He left the store with them and walked towards the hotel. Two blocks before he reached it, however, he caught the eye of a man leaning against a wall down a small alley. He stopped and looked at the man, who now began to walk towards him. Harry’s mind was full of voices preaching and screeching. It was too much and he quieted them all. His mind was empty as he took out his envelope again, knowing that he had a needle in his room. Harry took a small bag from the stranger and put it in his pocket.

Harry walked to his hotel with his envelope, art supplies, and little bag. Once he was inside his own room, he locked the door and laid the art supplies on the bed. He took out the bag and held it in front of him. Harry’s heart was pounding. He turned around and went into the bathroom. He placed the bag on the edge of the sink and returned to the bedroom. 

Harry walked over to the window. He couldn’t believe the view he had. He thought that the room must have cost at least three hundred dollars a night. Harry could imagine Louis looking at the pictures of this hotel and thinking it was perfect for them.

Harry took one of the canvases and laid it on top of the desk in the room and rested it against the wall. He sat facing it, next to the window. Harry painted what he saw outside and then went to sleep. When he woke up just after sun rise, he sat in the window again and began to paint again. This time he painted a self portrait. It was from the back, looking over his shoulder. He drew broad shoulders and muscles that rippled down his spine. His face was turned so you could only see half of it. Then he began to draw a shape hanging over his shoulder. Soon the shape grew into its own body, arms clutched around his waist from behind. The other head rested against the hidden side of his face. He was no longer painting a self portrait, but himself as David and Louis was his slingshot. He painted in pale tones of blue, yellow, and white, mixing them to make his skin like marble. Harry painted a figure in the distance. It was Goliath. He sat in the window looking at the painting and then signed it Michelangelo. He wanted to be in control.

Harry stood up, staring at his work, and then walked into the bathroom. He picked up the bag that still lay on the sink and held it in his palm. He looked at it for a few minutes. Harry craved the high. He went back to the bedroom and laid the bag on the desk next to his painting. Harry noticed that he had painted himself as David before he killed Goliath. The fight was coming.


End file.
